Feeding time

After yesterday's surprise confrontation, we were braced to meet the swans somewhere away from the pond and this time had come armed with a bag of small potato cubes. A man with a dog alerted us to their presence: on a patch of grass adjacent to the water. Approaching slowly and with care, I threw the food to them, which they took, and for perhaps close to ten minutes the proud parents allowed me to watch from a safe distance while they ate, even turning their backs on the cygnets to retrieve the pieces of potato they had missed, before moving off across a small car park to another, larger patch of grass. As was the case yesterday, the little ones found the kerb to be something of a challenge; each of them took several attempts to clamber over it in turn, which was very cute indeed. Once this obstacle had been overcome, they soon plonked themselves down in a huddle to rest, occasionally butting the ground. The sound their parents made tearing at the grass was impressive. I was so glad not to have alarmed them and felt privileged to have earned their trust.

The dogs, further back, were impeccably behaved once again. I think they found the scene as magical as I had.